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A key fumbled in the front-door lock, and footsteps approached Roux where she sat at the battered dining table.

Raven.

Roux knew the sound of her gait. She’d always had a strange ability to recognize a person by their step. The ability had started when she’d been young and had dreaded the sound of her father returning after a night of drinking. She could usually even predict by the amount of his stumbling whether he would yell or hit or just pass out. As a child, she’d known the footstep of every person who’d lived in their apartment building as well and had naturally expanded her talent to include the safer footfall patterns of her sisters and Mama after she’d been brought into Mama’s fold.

Roux palmed the phone number before pretending to examine the tour schedule in front of her. Great Britain, France, Italy, Russia. By the time her eyes read Germany, her heart was thundering with excitement.

“Pack a bag,” Raven said. “We’re going to Boston.”

Fear gripped Roux’s throat, and her breath caught. Her gaze snapped up to read Raven’s expression, which didn’t hold the concern Roux had anticipated. Mama Ramona wasn’t exactly young anymore, and while she was in relatively good health, Roux couldn’t help but worry about her. “Is something wrong?”

“Yeah. You look like a raccoon that’s been punched in both eyes.” Raven grabbed Roux’s chin and turned her face toward the light. “How long has it been since you’ve had a decent night’s sleep?”

Roux winced. “How long has it been since we signed that tour contract?”

“I figured as much. Going home for a few days will do you good.”

A trip to the enormous brownstone—home—sounded like heaven to her, but . . . “Iona will never go for it.”

“It was her idea, actually. We’re all going. Well, except Lily, who’s probably making love to her gorgeous and considerate husband on a beach somewhere, the cow.” Raven’s eyes rolled upward.

Roux chuckled and rose to her feet, heading for the corner of the room where three sets of bunkbeds and several mismatched dressers were situated. Their studio was basically one big room, though they’d put up a few strategic screens to separate spaces; there really wasn’t any privacy to be found except in the tiny bathroom.

Both she and Raven had their bags packed before Iona, Azura, and Sage entered the apartment ten minutes later.

“Did anyone call Mama and tell her we were coming?” Iona asked, looking almost as exhausted as Roux felt. If they were in such bad shape before heading out on tour, what would they be like in three months?

“I sent her a text,” Raven said.

“She doesn’t use text messaging,” Iona said.

“She replied with a middle finger emoji,” Raven said with a laugh. “I’m assuming she meant the thumbs-up, but you never know with her.”

“Maybe she’s glad we finally moved out and really does want us to fuck off,” Roux said. The woman had enough on her plate without four uninvited visitors showing up out of the blue.

“If she doesn’t want us to visit, I’ll sleep in some guy’s dorm room at Parkline,” Azura said, referring to the music college they all had attended at one time or another. “If I don’t get out of New York for a few days, I’ll go insane.”

“I’m with you,” Sage said, heading for her bunk and yanking an overnight bag out from under it. She tossed it to Azura and pulled out a second bag.

“Just let me call her,” Iona said, and retrieved her cellphone from her pocket.

By the smile on Iona’s face, it was obvious that Mama was more than happy for them to visit. Roux could hear the occasional exclamation in Italian from the woman she couldn’t wait to see in five or six hours, depending on traffic.

“Raven said you sent her a middle finger emoji,” Iona said, grinning as she teased Mama.

“What?”

Roux could hear her clearly.

“Let me talk to her,” Roux said, a hand extended toward Iona’s phone. “You need to pack.”

“Roux wants to talk to you while I pack,” Iona said. “Yes, I’ll drive carefully. I promise. No, Kyle isn’t coming, but he might show up while we’re there.” Iona laughed. “Yes, I remember the rule about men in the house. Here’s Roux.” She handed her phone over and hurried off to find her bag.

“Hi, Mama, how have you been?”

“Ah, mi tomato,” Mama said, and Roux laughed. That nickname used to embarrass her, but now she loved it because Mama was the only one who still used it. “Iona is keeping you busy, yes?”

“How did you guess?” Roux watched their unstoppable band leader, who was currently packing with careful precision. Sage and Azura were randomly tossing stuff into each other’s bags, figuring they’d be sharing living quarters in Boston just as they did in New York.

“It’s Iona!”

Roux pictured Mama shrugging her shoulders as she spoke.

“Are you able to eat well? I wonder will rock stars have food for you on this tour.”

Roux smiled, remembering how Mama had always gone out of her way to make sure Roux’s plate was meat free, which usually meant she’d had to prepare something special just for her. Mama never once complained, and until recently, Roux hadn’t realized what a bother that must have been for years.

“Don’t worry, Mama. I’ll eat just fine.” The memory of a yummy plate of eggplant lasagna and some fine company raced through her thoughts. “These rock stars know how to take care of a lady.”

“They probably try to get you drunk. You can say no. Don’t be afraid to say no, mi tomato. You can be too polite sometimes. Just say no.”

“I’ve already run into that situation.”

“Aaaand?”

Roux could easily picture Mama’s assessing stare. “I said no.”

“What did he say to that?”

“How did you know it was a he?”

“Mi tomato’s beauty will draw the attention of all men.”

Roux snorted. “Uh . . . he wanted to know why I don’t drink.”

Mama was quiet for a moment, and Roux could practically feel the woman’s enormous heart and immense empathy reaching through Iona’s phone to tug at her.

“And did you tell him?”

“I did.”

“Did he leave you alone then?”

“Actually, no.” She glanced over her shoulder to see if any of her sisters were paying attention. The three packing were too busy trying to squeeze into the bathroom for toiletries to pay her any mind, and Raven was fiddling with Facebook on her phone. “He gave me his number.”

“Oh. So you are seeing him now?”

Mama knew Roux had a hard time trusting anyone, especially men, and those who offered her alcohol in particular.

“I haven’t called him. Too busy.”

“But you like him.”

“I don’t know.” She suddenly felt much younger. Like junior high age, when she’d gone to Mama for all her boy advice. “It’s been a week since he gave me his number. Don’t you think that’s too long?”

“You have to call him and see.” There was a loud crash on Mama’s end, and Mama shouted, “Oh, Caroline be careful. You’ll cut yourself.” To Roux she said, “Have to go. See you soon.”

“Love you, Mama.”

“To the stars and back.” Mama had always said the moon wasn’t far enough away to encompass the depth of her love.

Roux ended the call and nibbled on her lip. Maybe it wasn’t too late to call Steve. She had an excuse. Not a good one, but she did have one. It was sort of legitimate. But what would she say to him? And why oh why had she waited so long?

“Problem?” Raven asked.

Roux snapped out of her Steve-trance. “What?”

“You got off quick.” Raven nodded toward the phone in Roux’s hand.

“I think Caroline broke something.”

Raven chuckled. Their youngest sister—no, Margaret, their newest sister, was younger—was notoriously clumsy. “Figures. So who have you been too busy to call?”

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